Cherish
by Danko Kaji
Summary: For Chancellor Baralai and High Summoner Yuna, they must place the world first above all else, including their love life, but by the end of the day, they will always come back to each other. A Drabble Collection inspired by prompts. Baralai/Yuna. Post-game, Normal Ending. Established relationship, newlyweds and their domestic habits. Rated for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

{Chapter 1}

* * *

 _standing quietly together in the kitchen after long, exhausting days at work,_  
 _leaning into each other for support, breathing in the smell of home, fingers combing through hair_  
 _and stroking down spines, until they feel like they can relax and smile properly again_

 _― prompt provided by otpdisasters at Tumblr_

* * *

Always the first to leave and the last to return, Baralai trudges into their apartment, locking the door behind him. Heat pervades his body not a moment later, quelling the outside chill from his ruddy cheeks while carrying the heady scent of supper. Setting his keys aside in an ornamental bowl, he pulls out the top drawer of his bureau cabinet to stow away his letters for the day, not in the mood for distractions. Tonight, he wants to be with the woman he loves.

Baralai doubts she heard him enter, because Yuna always stops in the middle of her task to welcome him back. Her clinginess and enthusiasm used to overwhelm him in the beginning, always ambushing him in a hug the moment he stepped through their door, always eager to hear about his day even though he had nothing of real importance or interest to talk about (that he believed anyway). Now, her heartfelt embraces are the only thing holding him through the days. He treasures her devotion more than anything, because he had forgotten how it felt like to come home to someone waiting.

Removing himself of his vestment, he wanders into the living room to drape it across his armchair, before making his way to the kitchen, guided by the aroma of warm spices. Baralai pauses by the doorway, admiring Yuna in her newfound element. Neither of them were really talented at cooking, especially when it came to learning how to use these brand new, state-of-the-art machina appliances such as the electric "touch screen" stove and little "microwave" oven (both a Machine Faction trademark), but Yuna had been eager to accept the challenge. Watching her stir food inside the frying pan with practiced focus, Baralai smiles and sneaks up on her from behind.

She jumps when his arms curl around her waist, relaxing soon after to the touch of his lips on her neck, the echo of his weary voice in her ear.

"Good evening, my beloved." Baralai pauses to kiss her temple, peering over her shoulder. "What are you cooking?"

"Some vegetables with meat. Do you want a taste?" she says, offering a spoonful.

"Maybe." He hums, mischievous, guiding her hand to leave the wooden spoon and pan aside, so he can sneak in kisses and delight in the sound of her melodic laughter. "To be honest, I'd much rather have a taste of you."

She squeals at this, turning pink in the ears when Baralai nibbles her earlobe, and turns around to hold his shoulders while he moves to switch the stove off. He coaxes her into the corner of their connecting countertop, away from the dangerous, stifling heat and into his amorous embrace. His lips find hers in an instant, and he wraps wanton hands over the small of her back, pleased to feel her cling to him in turn.

Yuna digs her fingers beneath the fabric of his headband, sliding it off through the fluid motion of combing his hair. Her hands come back to cradle his face, smoothing the tension from his jaw, rubbing his cheekbones, his contours, his temples beneath the gentle sweep of her thumbs. She massages his head next, scratching his crown, his neck, caressing the firm lines of his collarbone, his chest through the plunging neckline of his tunic, tracing down the whole length of his spine, all the while delighting in his every moan and shiver of pleasure. Her loving ministrations encourage him to collapse into her, and she breaks away from their long series of slow kisses to smile. "Feel better? Hm?"

"Yes." Baralai breathes out a sigh, touching her forehead to his. "I can't live without you. I love you so much."

"I love you, too." She stands on her tiptoes to kiss his nose, before swaying back on her heels, taking in the sight of his beautiful, brown eyes crinkling with content. Closing the distance in a single step, she rests her head on his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're home..."

Her voice echoes with such profound relief, it causes his heart to ache. He strokes her back to soothe her, sensing her unwind beneath the tender caress of his fingers; feeling his face own warm when she inhales his scent, the tip of her nose tickling his neck. Her hands roam his body, lingering where his muscles tense and his curves slope, taking in every inch of him ― something she does every time they reunite, no matter how long they have spent apart.

Baralai knows without having to ask: Yuna still suffers from the loss of her loved ones. She almost lost him, too, in the battle against Shuyin and Vegnagun. He knows that memory still haunts her sometimes, because it haunts him, too. They never talk about the nightmares they both endure on cold, restless nights, the ones where Baralai plays the organ like a demon possessed until Yuna finally arrives to exorcise the spirit out of him. They were both present in the Farplane, trapped in the lingering wills of lovers past. Whichever one wakes up first will always find themselves cradled in the other's embrace, anchored by unconditional love and concern.

Baralai pulls her back by the shoulders, ignoring the eerie familiarity of that simple motion as he gazes into her eyes, sees only blue and green, not brown, and sighs with divine relief. Upon perceiving the question in her bashful expression, he raises her hand to his cheek and gives her a shy smile. "I'm sorry I made you wait, but I'm here now. I'm home."

Yuna beams, radiant with adoration.

"Welcome home."


	2. Chapter 2

{ Chapter 2 }

* * *

 _Imagine your OTP taking a bath together with Person A's back pressed against Person B's chest._  
 _They relax in silence, A's hand casually caressing B's inner thigh ever so often. It takes time, but eventually the quiet_  
 _turns into pants and moans as Person A pleasures B; not forgetting to trail light kisses down their neck._

 _―_ _prompt provided by otprompt at Tumblr_

* * *

Baralai took it upon himself to prepare the bath after dinner, so while the water pours in to fill their large, luxurious bathtub, Yuna shimmies out of her clothes, rushing to beat the cold air. By the time bubbles have amassed as snow-topped mountains on the steaming, hot surface, she hops in, resurfacing after a nice, quick soak to whip her long hair back in a sweeping circle. She gathers all of her hair in both hands to squeeze them free of water, sneaking in a glimpse of him unguarded.

Baralai stands off to the side, his back to her as he unravels his tunic, sleeves slipping off his arms to reveal the most beautiful, broad set of bronze shoulders she has ever laid eyes on. His movements are slow and thoughtful, almost graceful, too many things still weighing on his mind. Right when he begins to unfasten his waistband, he glances over his shoulder and smiles. "It's rude to stare."

Yuna blushes, caught guilty in her obvious appraisal of him, and lowers herself into the water, blowing air bubbles to amuse herself. Even though they have been intimate countless times before, a part of him still feels self-conscious undressing in front of her. She understands the feeling a little, having grown out of it during her time with the Gullwings (for the most part, at least), but sometimes she still likes to tease him about it, calling him adorable in his shyness to conceal his embarrassment. She wonders if Baralai will ever feel comfortable being naked in front of her, being so unused to the receiving end of a lover's gaze. He had mentioned once that he had never been with anyone else before her, and the thought makes her proud.

Lost in her thoughts, Yuna senses the water shift, hearing him dip into the water, and looks up to find him already rinsing himself with a sponge. Crawling over to sit behind him on her knees, she grabs the loofa floating nearby to lather it in body wash so she can begin scrubbing his neck and shoulder blades. She loves running her hands over his naked skin, loves touching his smooth jaw to her fingertips without the annoying presence of his high collar, loves laying her hands over his shaven chest while planting sensual kisses all over the length of his shoulders. And of course, Yuna saves her favorite part for last. Tilting his head back, she lathers his hair thick in shampoo, watching the serene expression form on his face as his weariness starts to melt away. He looks so different without his headband or his hair hanging in his face, she loves it.

She sits sideways now to rest her legs, propping herself on one arm while the other reaches out to draw the Yevonic alphabet on his back. Yuna senses him unwind and smiles, humming to fill the bathroom with music while Baralai tends to himself, humming along with her. The moment she moves down his back, passing between his shoulder blades, does the tension snap back to his body. Silence eases back into the air as she holds her hand near the center of his spine, tracing the faint, pink outline of a scar ― remembers crimson film waves and a single gunshot, Baralai falling, bleeding ― and she blinks, feeling the tears catch on her eyelashes.

They say nothing even when Baralai turns around to catch her eye, lifting her hand for a kiss ― willing the lingering sadness at bay with plenty of soapy kisses to go around. She giggles and squeals, tickled by his playful affection, until he catches her face in his hands, combing her long, tangled hair back to lather her scalp in shampoo. He pulls back, besotted with the twinkle of her eyes as his hands move down her dripping shoulders now, placing one hand behind her spine while wrapping the other around her waist, tilting her body back to lie within the water face up, allowing her to rinse her hair. Before he can bring her back up, she wounds her arms around his neck and pulls him down, dragging them both into the water.

Baralai resurfaces with a sharp breath, throwing her a withering look, yet the twitch of his smile betrays him when she emerges from the lukewarm water in giggles. Hell bent on revenge, he splashes he, and she splashes right back, sparking an all-out war. Silly threats and open laughter fills the air, accompanying the echo of furious water until they finally agree on a truce, settling down to cuddle against the edge of the tub. Yuna lounges in between his legs, snuggling to his chest as Baralai reclines into the cold, marble tiling, resting her head in the wonderful, cozy space between his shoulder and neck.

She feels him caress her arm, giving rise to goosebumps on her drying skin as his hand moves ever downward, slipping into the water to stroke the inside of her thigh. She melts under his gentle, wandering touch, crooning in contentment ― yet he goes no further, teasing her. She does not mind; at least they can lounge together in peaceful silence, enjoying each other's company.

Water droplets drip from the faucet, echoing in the quiet. They have this immodest, grand bathroom all to themselves, that it sometimes overwhelms her whenever she bathes alone, equipped with the sort of modern technology that lends itself towards atmospheric opulence, indicative of the shower heads and elaborate pipelines that connect to a hidden boiler system. Although she learned how to bathe with technology in the shower stalls aboard the Celsius, appreciating the cramped privacy that came with it, she missed feeling the soft, compact earth beneath her skin as she lounged in the swimming hole alongside the other women and children of Besaid.

Once, the thought of breathing in the fresh, open air of the nearby ocean would make her feel homesick, especially when broad daylight reminded her of the times she used to soak in the warm, morning sunlight. But now, taking in the cold, hard presence of marble walls and decorative tiles surrounding her, inhaling the steam and heady scent of orchid bath salts, knowing that a whole week of harrowing work awaits her, she sighs in content.

She used to view Bevelle as a gilded cage, supported by the materialistic, sinful luxuries the people used to preach against. Despite it being the place of her birth, she never saw this city as home due to the many tragedies associated with it. But after she decided to marry Baralai, their romantic relationship sparked by her regular (if not hesitant) visits as his friend and "ally," Yuna learned to love Bevelle the same way she learned to love him ― by giving it a second chance. She considers their home a sacred place now, hidden from the outside world where they could be alone and away from the public eye.

Yuna strokes his arm, thoughtful ― reflecting upon their daily lives and the issues that continue to crop up.

The main one being their time together, or lack thereof.

Baralai seems to agree with her, because she can sense his arousal tickle her lower backside, causing her to feel flushed and restless with need. Twisting around to straddle him, she feels his hands on her hips, steadying her as she settles down on his lap with her hands gripping his shoulders. She watches him take in the sight of her naked, feeling self-conscious and excited when he strokes the length of her curves, his expression serene.

"You're so beautiful…"

She smiles, cheeks colored crimson. "...really?"

Although too shy to make eye contact, Baralai nuzzles her cleavage as his way of answer, showering her skin with affectionate kisses.

Yuna squeals in delight, tickled by his chilled nose and moist lips. Trembling from the firm press of his hands on her back, the light touch of his erection beneath her slick arousal, she moans aloud when his mouth moves to cover one of her hard nipples. He fondles it between the sensual part of his lips, running his tongue along the sensitive tip, teasing her, caressing her, rubbing his thumb along the second one, and Baralai switches to give the other one more attention.

Wrapping her arms around his head, she trembles, blushing. "Baralai… I want you. Let's go to bed. I want to feel you more."

He moans into her breasts, pulling back to smile at her. "Whatever milady wishes."


	3. Chapter 3

{Chapter 3}

* * *

 _Imagine one of your OTP calling the other the "strong, sensitive, murderous type."_

― _prompt provided by otpprompts at Tumblr_

* * *

Baralai pauses, giving her a sidelong glance. "Pardon?"

Yuna giggles, resting her cheek against the back of her entwined fingers. "Don't you think so?"

He hums, thoughtful ― the twitch of his smile betraying his poker face as he shifts to recross his legs, biting into his half-eaten slice of buttered toast to conceal his air of mock contemplation. "…I'm sensitive? Hm. I didn't think my job warranted me to feel compassion for the hopeless and pessimistic."

Adoration sparkles in her bi-colored eyes as she giggles again, besotted with his wit. "That's the first thing you notice?"

"I'm relieved to know my lady still sees me as a man worth his mettle and not some fool who puts on airs." Baralai grins, dancing around her mild jab at his dark, unsavory past, because they both know how far he would go in his passionate pursuit for justice. Drinking the last of his rosemary tea, he places the glass down with a soft clink and proceeds to wipe his mouth with a handkerchief standing up a moment later to clear the table of empty plates.

Yuna stands as well to help him collect the cups and silverware, smiling in glee when he brushes past her only to sneak in a kiss "thank you" for the meal (no matter how many times he annoys her with his insistence to cook and clean for the both of them). Because no matter the nature of his inner demons, the man she fell in love with had proven himself strong enough to forgive without wanting to forget the past.


End file.
